It's something odd, something powerful that music does for me. It used to be my passion, my life and all I ever wanted to do. It's become my best friend, my worst enemy, medicine and many other things. It's always been there for me. Last night on the ol' a.m. radio I hear Sinatra and some vortex opens up from my past. I have battled with things all my life but one thing that always made it better was love. I'm blessed to even understand that word although it just breaks me into pieces now.
Now I honestly hate more than love. I don't believe in things that are good without some sort of agenda. I've become locked in my own coffin after fighting to survive too many years. It's still a daily question of why in the hell am I really here. That point grows dimmer and dimmer lately. It's just adjustments like I literally have buttons now. Say this, say that, maybe a facial expression and move on. Listening to Frank Sinatra reminds me, although it rips me apart, that I used to be someone else. I'm not here anymore.
This whole fight I've had has truly beaten me into submission. Every time I look in the mirror it's not me now, it's me from years ago. I feel more fractured every hour now, instead of days like it used to me. I am really having a hard time grasping at anything these days.
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